Gentlemen, Place Your Bets
by Midorima Kazunari
Summary: Mitobe is always a "mother hen," even to other teams. Dedicated to School-Read-Sleep-Routine. (Companion piece to Partners & no pairings).
1. Chapter 1

Dedicated to School-Read-Sleep-Routine for the inspiration to write about everyone's favorite "Mother Hen."

* * *

"I don't like the idea of leaving him alone in there, with that –" Koganei paused, eyeing the members of Tōō as they lay scattered around the outside of the sauna. He lowered his voice and continued, "– that shady character."

"Our Captain isn't shady..." Sakurai said, his cheeks bright pink and his hair plastered to his face. "Um, I mean... sorry. I shouldn't have been eavesdropping on you and if I did I shouldn't have said anything…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"

"He's a tough one," Hyūga comforted Koganei. "I have faith in him. He will win this for us." Hyūga didn't look much better than Sakurai and his glasses were still fogged up, but he managed to wobble over to the cooling pool and found a seat between Kawahara and Fukuda.

"He'd better win this for us. I don't think we have the budget to pay for all these drinks," Hyūga muttered. Koganei and Sakurai both look toward the door as the sound of Imayoshi's laughter drifted out.

* * *

"Nine brothers and sisters?!" Imayoshi laughed, pushing his sweat-soaked hair back from his face. "Ya'll know what's causin' that don'cha?" He used a finger to wipe a bit of the condensation off the inside of his glasses, but it hardly helped. Communication with the mute man in front of him was hard enough without the other man's active participation, but it was harder still without being able to see his hand gestures, so Imayoshi carefully edged his way around the bench so the two were seated perpendicular to each other.

_Yeah, I've taken the sex education class too, thank you, _Mitobe chuckled,_ and you can stay over there if you don't mind._ He saw the move as less of an attempt at communication and more of an intimidation technique. Mitobe was tall, unusually so, but the man next to him seemed like he was even larger than Kiyoshi-senpai.

"You really don't talk do ya? When Momoi called you the 'silent but strong Hook Shooter,' none of us took it literally. We'll have to apologize to the little lady."

_Momoi said that about me? _Mitobe shrugged, trying to hide the fact that he was secretly pleased that the beautiful young woman had even noticed him. _At least if I blush in here, there's no way he'll notice. _

"That's alright. I don't think I'd have much to say either if I had nine brothers and sister. You probably don't get a chance to speak even if you wanted too."

_Ouch, that hits a little too close to home_, Mitobe nodded.

"Somethin' tells me a man who does not speak is probably a heluva good listener, am I right?"

Mitobe shrugged. _That's an understatement._

"There is this tradition where I come from, that when you're in a sauna to cleanse the body, it is also the perfect time to cleanse the soul. Do ya have anythin' you'd like to get off your mind?"

Mitobe stared as the Tōō captain swayed in the heat. _He doesn't look too good. Maybe I should help him out of here. _

"No?" the other man said. He was so used to his overly chatty teammates that in the delirium of the heat, he forgot who he was talking to as his glasses once again fogged over.

"Are you two alright in there?" Koganei called, pounding on the door. _I'm fine Shinji, don't worry about me. It's hotter than this in my house in the summer. I can handle it. _

"I haven't drowned your friend yet," Imayoshi called back.

"Ok, if you're sure, Rin," Koganei answered. Imayoshi raised an eyebrow which Mitobe chose to ignore.

Imayoshi paused and added another coal to the fire. "Not that I'm not enjoyin' your company immensely, but I think the faster we get outta here, the better we'll both feel, isn't that right?"

_The quicker I get away from you, the better._

"Maybe I could convince you to leave first? Are you moved by money?"

Mitobe looked away, sighing. _My team is worth more than a few yen._

"Yeah, I didn't think so. Maybe I can tell you ghost stories? Are you easily frightened?" Imayoshi asked, his smile widening.

_Only of that smile_, Mitobe thought. _Really, who smiles like that?_

"You're a hard one to figure out, Mitobe-kun. You ever play poker?"

Mitobe shook his head.

"No? Well you are hereby invited to my Friday Night Point Guard Poker Game. We don't play for money, but you are required to bring food, sweets preferably. Takao only brings healthy, good for you crap and Kasamatsu thinks that ramen is a delicacy."

_Me? I'm not a Point Guard? _Mitobe thought. Now that Imayoshi had spent at least ten minutes alone with the quiet young man, he thought he could almost hear what was going on behind that very expressive face.

"Yes, you; since you're the only other one here. I know my reputation, but I promise you, I'm not a psychopath, I'm only a narcissistic sociopath. I enjoy my own company, but I don't feel the need to talk to myself."

_That's surprising, since you seem to abhor silence._

"Well, if you won't take advantage of the confessional nature of the sauna, I will," he continued from a thought so far back, that Mitobe had to rewind the conversation in his head to remember the topic. "And I feel like I can tell ya anythin' without fear of hearin' it repeated back to me ad nauseum."

_Oh please, don't tell me your murdered one of your kōhai._

"Don't look so worried. If you faint, I'll tell your teammates so that they can carry you out. But what I regret…" he sighed. "I regret the way I allowed Tōō's basketball to develop this year. On paper, that may seem stupid, or conceited, since we haven't lost a single game this season, but I'm worried that Aomine's ego will do this team more harm than good in the long run."

Mitobe wasn't surprised; a forced smile like that wasn't completely unknown to him. He watched people all the time and anyone who has to fake a smile, usually does so in order to hide something.

"Then there's Sakurai. In his own way, that poor boy is worse than Aomine. I swear to you, he came to us that neurotic. I've always looked at the world with long eyes, ya know? You can't just look at what's in front of you, you have to plan for the future and all. Even though I won't be with them to see it, I still feel responsible for what I predict is coming."

_I don't know what to…_

The Point Guard moaned, and sagged forward. Mitobe carefully removed the other man's glasses and saw that he wasn't 100% with him anymore. He patted the man's cheek until he roused some sense into Imayoshi.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, but could ya help me outta here. I don't think I can stand on my own right this moment."

Mitobe hesitated. _Is this just another one of your schemes?_

"I promise you," pants Imayoshi, "I will concede defeat, on my honor."

Mitobe's mouth twisted up into an unbelieving smile.

"Alright, you can push me out the door first if it'll make you feel better," Imayoshi grinned.

Mitobe pulled Imayoshi to his unsteady feet and made sure that the Point Guard's towel was secure around his waist, before he slung the older man's arm across his shoulders and snaked his left arm around the Captain's waist. Imayoshi's imposing presence when seated was immediately diminished when Mitobe realized that he was at least 6 centimeters taller than the other man, who was now swooning off of him, groaning like a drunk.

Mitobe dragged Imayoshi to the door and careful toed it open. Koganei, Hyūga, and Sakurai were all there in an instant and verified that Mitobe was the last man standing in the sauna challenge. Mitobe passed his burden over to the nervous first year Shooting Guard and then received the congratulations of his team.

"I knew you could do it," Hyūga said, patting Mitobe on the back.

"I was hoping he wouldn't kill you," Koganei said, relieved.

_I'm stronger than that_, Mitobe's expression clearly said. _Not all my brothers and sister are sweet, charming kids after all. _

"I know, I know, but, well, someone's got to worry about our worrier," Koganei shrugged.

"Can someone find my glasses? I seem to have left them in the sauna," Imayoshi called. Mitobe stepped back into the steamy room and found them exactly where he'd put them.

* * *

Later, once Imayoshi's color had returned to normal, he climbed out of the cooling pool and staggered into the changing room only to find Serin's silent Hook Shooter was already there, wearing a light blue yukata.

"I do believe I owe you a drink," he said as he slipped into his own robe and rubbed down his hair with a dry towel.

_Yes, I believe you do_, Mitobe acknowledged. Imayoshi found his coin purse among his other belongings and put in the maximum cost of a drink in the vending machine before stepping back and allowing Mitobe to make his choice. He picked a strawberry-flavored sports drink.

"Maybe I'll even treat you to a snack as well," he said, gesturing to the other vending machine. Mitobe's eyes immediately wandered over to the Kit Kats and his two favorite flavors Wasabi and Hot Japanese Chili, but he turned his gaze away quickly, hoping that he hadn't been misunderstood. _The wager was only for a drink, not a snack._

"Don't be a freakin' martyr, if you want a Kit Kat, I'll buy you a Kit Kat. After all you coulda left my sorry self in there, but you didn't," Imayoshi said and strode over to the machine. All the Kit Kats were the same price so he dropped in two yen and then looked back over his shoulder. "So which do you want? The Wasabi or the Chili?"

_Either one_, Mitobe flinched, startled that man's observation could be so keen with such narrow eyes. He didn't notice which button Imayoshi hit, but he heard the distinctive sound of a package hitting the bottom tray of the machine, followed by the addition of two more coins and then a second package falling.

"I haven't had the Wasabi before. How about we split 'em?" Imayoshi asked, throwing the Chili ones at Mitobe, who reached out and caught them.

As they walked out of the changing area, Sakurai was rushing down the hall with a towel grasped tightly around his waist. Giggling came from further down and then the sound of heavy rushing feet. Imayoshi pushed Mitobe to one side of the hallway as Sakurai ran by them, screaming "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Two members of Tōō that Mitobe only recognized from the sauna came down the hall, fully dressed, intent on catching the Shooting Guard.

"Captain," one one of them acknowledged with a nod as they sped past.

_Do I even want to know?_

"I swear, I've never put a hand on him, but he really does leave himself open to such torments from others," Imayoshi said, holding his hands up in surrender. Held up between them, Sakurai was hauled back toward the hallway opening where three girls tittered, camera phones at the ready.

"They just want to talk to you, Sakurai, get it together and don't embarrass us," one of them snapped and used his free hand to punch Sakurai in the gut.

On his feet once more, but still wrapped only in a towel, Sakurai took one look at the girls and fainted dead away.

"That is so pathetic," one the girls remarked, looking at the comatose first year with disgust.

"Come on, we'll buy you drink to make up for this," the boys offered.

Mitobe rushed over to Sakurai as the others left, knelt, and patted the stunned boy on the cheek. _If I have to revive one more Tōō…_

"What are ya, his mama, leave him be?" Imayoshi said, squatting beside him. He poked at Sakurai and wondered if he'd live through the end of the season.

Sakurai snapped up, startling them both before scrambling to his feet and running straight into the girl who had been left behind. His towel dropped to the ground and they both starting shrieking and then Sakurai fainted plank-stiff backwards, his naked body on display for all to see.

After her initial fright, the girl began snapping pictures with her cellphone.

Mitobe snatched the towel off of Imayoshi's shoulders and dropped it over Sakurai's already wounded dignity.

_Stop her, for pity's sake._

"If you come to poker on Friday, I'll take care of her," Imayoshi bargained as he watched the girl begin to type out a message to go along with the picture.

_Anything you want, just do something, but don't hurt her_, Mitobe nodded, vigorously.

"Miss, no one wants to see that," Imayoshi stood and took the phone from her even as she protested. After a few seconds he flashed the phone to Mitobe and showed him the empty file. "See all gone." The girl glared at them for only a second and then seemed to notice that Imayoshi's smile wasn't as good-natured as it first appeared. She grabbed her phone from his outstretched hand and backed down the hallway, before turning and fleeing.

Mitobe sighed and used the second towel to make a pillow for Sakurai's head. Imayoshi reached into Mitobe's pocket and synced their phones.

"I'll text ya the time and place. Don't worry, we meet at a coffee-house right near the Tōō dorms. You go on along now and I'll take care of this…mess. I don't want your team thinking I drowned you in the shower room, now do I?"

Mitobe took one last look at the supine boy on the floor and then up at the grinning man above them. There was something very predatory in that smile, but at the same time Mitobe understood that was a defensive act. He was more worried for Imayoshi then he was for Sakurai.

* * *

Thanks to my Beta Reader Andarkness23!


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter is dedicated to emilytheaquarius for her encouragement.

* * *

A month went by and Mitobe was genuinely relieved that he received no messages for Imayoshi Shoichi. Then, one Friday evening, way past a normal high school student's bedtime, his phone vibrated silently on the living room table.

[Next Friday, Yami no Kaffee, 20:00, Don't forget the sweets]

* * *

Yami no Kaffee was on the second floor, above a pharmacy, and Mitobe walked past it three times before he recognized Takao waiting on a bench, playing with his cell phone.

"I was wondering if you were debating coming up or if you were lost."

_Lost_, Mitobe's shoulders slumped.

"I couldn't believe it when Imayoshi said you were coming," he laughed. "But, well, I'm glad you did. Come on, I'll show you the way up."

Takao led Mitobe into the pharmacy, waved to the clerk behind the counter, and took the back hallway to a well-hidden stair case. The room was long and narrow, and so dark that the walls might as well have been stained the color of black coffee.

_Why didn't I tell anyone where I was going? What if this is some sort of Yakuza establishment? I'll miss you Koganei. Avenge my death..._

Imayoshi and Kasamatsu sat at a four-top at the far end of the room. Four bowls of ramen, a plate of sushi, and demitasse of black coffee waited at each place. Kasamatsu had his head stuck in a book called _Hoyle's Modern Encyclopedia of Card Games_. Imayoshi sat with his back to the far wall and tried to get a look at what Mitobe was carrying without looking like he was looking.

"See, I told y'all he'd show. I might not know much about our soon-to-be friend Mitobe-kun, but I know decent folk when I spot 'em."

"All the better to deceive them, Saint?" Takao asked, offering Mitobe the choice of the two remaining seats.

_Across from Imayosh? Or across from Kasamatsu, putting Imayoshi to my left_? Mitobe debated. _What was it we learned in biology? If you keep eye contact with a predator, it says you're not prey, right? _He took the seat across from Imayoshi.

* * *

The mochi, all twelve of them, were gone less than a minute after Mitobe had opened the box.

"You can stay, I don't even care if you never play cards," Kasamatsu said. "Just keep bringing stuff like this, and I'll declare you the winner every time."

_I win? Wait, we didn't even start yet. _Mitobe chuckled.

"It's as fair a way to judge the winner as any, I guess," Imayoshi chuckled.

"You see, Mitobe-kun, we're not very good at cards," Takao confessed. "In fact, we suck at poker. I've never won a single game, and it's not because I'm less skilled then any of the others, it's just that we ..."

"What he means to say, is that if Kasamatsu picks the game, as he will tonight, most of our time will be spent tryin' to figure out the rules," Imayoshi finished.

"It's no better when you pick," Kasamatsu glared at Imayoshi. "You always pick games that take too long to play."

_They're just like big kids, ok, I think I can handle this. _The silent man exhaled some of the nervousness he'd been holding inside.

"And Takao needlessly chatters through games, making us forget whose turn it is," Imayoshi said, ignoring the hostility in Kasamatsu's gaze. "We're all hopeless, but we have fun and, as a side benefit, we're free to complain about our Generation of Miracles teammates as much as we want. Now Mitobe-kun, we need to go over a couple of house rules."

"One: **_We don't talk about Poker Club._** **_What's said at Poker Club, stays at Poker Club_,**" Takao barked in English.

"You have to pick one bad quote, Takao. Either this is Las Vegas or it's Fight Club. It can't be both," Kasamatsu groaned. "In other words, don't talk... um... tell... um, whatever it is you do, about what goes on here to anyone, not even friends or family."

"You'll have to excuse them. Takao switches into English whenever possible and Kasamatsu has a very short fuse," Imayoshi explained.

"I do not!" Kasamatsu said, and threw the rule book at the former Tōō captain.

"Oh good, then I'll pick the game tonight, shall I?"

"Two," Takao continued, as if this spectacle was normal. "You have to share at least one embarrassing or funny story about your member-of-the-Generation-of-Miracles teammate."

"How's he going to even do that?" Kasamatsu wondered. "Can you even talk?"

"He communicates just fine, Pacifist," Imayoshi taunted, "You just gotta listen carefully."

"Three: we all have ironic nicknames, and you will be given one before the night is over," Takao continued his enumeration. "And last, but not least, we rotate who picks the games each time. That's it. That's us: The Point Guard Poker Players!"

* * *

"Do you have a three?" Imayoshi asked as he peered over the top of his cards at Kasamatsu.

"Of course I have threes," the former Kaijō captain snapped. He grabbed the cards and threw them down on the table. "I can't believe you picked this stupid kids game, Saint."

"Why thank you, Pacifist," the Imayoshi said, his smile spreading as he collected his bounty and discarded onto the pile at the center of the table.

"How about you Chatterbox, you got any Queens?" Kasamatsu asked Mitobe.

"Chatterbox! I love it!" Takao squealed.

"Chatterbox it is," Imayoshi agreed. He took a long sip of his coffee as he watched Chatterbox examine his cards.

_Nope_, Mitobe shook his head with a timid smile. _No Queens. Go fish!_

"Ugh," Kasamatsu complained, drawing yet another card from the pile. "Anyway, it's your turn. I want to hear an embarrassing story about Kuroko."

He'd been dreading that topic all night. He really couldn't think of a single thing that Kuroko had done. He took out his phone and began typing out the only thing he could think of that might fit the build:

[Since Kuroko is invisible, it's hard to catch him doing something embarrassing. But he does like to pretend he's been in the room the whole time when he's just barely made it on time to hear someone wonder where he is. But when he's all out of breath and panting it is pretty obvious that he's lying.] He hit send, and all three phones he'd sent the text to alerted their owners simultaneously in very different ways. Imayoshi's phone vibrated quietly; Kasamatsu's phone played a guitar riff, and the last played a clip of Midorima's voice sternly saying Takao's name.

Each man took a moment to read the text.

"It's not fair that you have the quiet, well-behaved Generation of Miracles," Kasamatsu whined.

[He's got scary bed-head too.] Mitobe texted quickly.

"If you want an embarrassing story, I've got -" Takao began.

"No one wants to hear your 'how cute' awkward Shin-chan is stories, Bat, so just stop before we ban you again," Kasamatsu said.

"Aww, you never let me share!"

"Once you ask him out, you may share non-sexual embarrassing stories. Until that time, you are denied," Imayoshi declared.

_Takao and Midorima? _The thought was clearly written across Mitobe's face.

"We take all kinds here, Chatterbox, is that alright with you?" Imayoshi asked, his eyes opening just a fraction more than usual.

_Whom am I to judge? _Mitobe smiled gently. _I'm a freak who doesn't speak. Oh no, now I sound as bad as Izuki!_

"I think you'll get along with us just fine," Imayoshi grinned.

* * *

Kasamatsu gathered up all the dishes from the table while Takao balanced the empty cups on a tray and took them to the bar. Imayoshi wiped down the, table and Mitobe swept the area around them.

"So what do you think, Chatterbox, will you join us again? We meet about every two weeks, except for holidays and during exams," Kasamatsu asked as they finished gathering up all they'd brought with them in preparation to leave.

_I'd like that,_ Mitobe nodded.

"Cool," Kaijō's former Point Guard said. "We've been kinda lackluster ever since, Firecracker, er, um, Kasuga Ryūhei of Seiho graduated and went away to college. Our foursome ended up a threesome, and that makes it hard to play the cooler games."

Mitobe reached out and patted Kasamatsu on the shoulder.

_It's hard when our friends move on, isn't it? I won't try to replace him, but I hope I can fill the gap._


	3. Chapter 3

Mitobe was the only one still awake on the back of the bus. Behind him, Kagami was stretched out on the final row of seats, snoring loudly. Koganei was slumped against his shoulder, and, across the aisle, Izuki and Fuihata had fallen silent about twenty minutes ago, a pile of scouting reports precariously balanced on the tray table in front of Izuki. All night they'd bent their heads together, plotting and planning – doing their duty as Point Guards – so that they could better lead the team on the court.

The very notion of leadership was foreign, and a little frightening, to Mitobe, who found that his place was more natural as a support pillar. _I can't get away from Point Guards_, he laughed silently. Whether here with his team, or with the Point Guard Poker Players, it seemed that somehow he was destined to surround himself with strong characters.

Mitobe, because of a car accident he'd been in as a small child, was unable to sleep in a moving vehicle, so even though it was close to four a.m. and they had a practice game with Razukan once they arrived in the morning, he wasn't able to close his eyes. _There's only one person I know,_ he thought_,__who seems to answer texts at all times of the day and night._

[Why me?] he typed to Imayoshi, wondering if the man was awake.

[While I am known for my quick wit, it is 4am and, without seeing you, I find it impossible to guess the correct context of your question. You're going to have to give me a little more to work with, Chatterbox.]

Mitobe couldn't help but read the response with Saint's thick Osakan twang.

[Why did you invite me to Point Guard Poker Players? Serin has two PGs - Izuki and Furihata. You know that I'm a Center, right?] Mitobe typed out the reply, but hesitated sending it. _What if Saint didn't know? Would it be a deal breaker? Not going to play poker with them would be..._

Koganei stretched in his sleep and let go of the death's grip he had on Mitobe's shoulder as he rolled toward the window. Pins and needles rushed through his arm as the blood began circulating freely again. He considered deleting the last part of the message.

[You ok? It's pretty damn late to be having a serious conversation like this?]

Mitobe decided to trust his friend, but amended the message to answer the last question. [We're traveling to Razukan by bus and I can't sleep. Why did you invite me to Point Guard Poker Players? Serin has two PGs - Izuki and Furihata. You know that I'm a Center, right?]

[Ah, that's complicated] the text read, and was accompanied by a winking emoticon.

[Humor me; I'm feeling... like the odd man out.]

Mitobe's screen was set to automatically go dark after twenty seconds and as it dimmed and then went black, he thought, _Did I push too much?_

After about three minutes, Mitobe's phone shook as it received a reply, and he fumbled the phone into the aisle. As the bus banked around a curve, the phone slid further down to where Fukada and Kawahara were playing cards.

_Perhaps I should get them to teach me a game,_he thought as he chased his phone.

He stumbled into the seat in front of Tsuchida, who was whispering into his cellphone, talking, no doubt, to his girlfriend, the eldest of Mitobe's younger sisters. _He'd better be talking to Yumi,_while thinking at the same time, _of all the girls in Tokyo, he had to pick my sister._

He finally snatched the phone from the wheel well as Kiyoshi, Huyga, and Kanto-kun watched his ungainly acrobatics. Kiyoshi said nothing, but raised an eyebrow.

_I'm fine,_ Mitobe waved off the question, and held up his phone. Kiyoshi smiled and nodded, and they went back to their discussion.

[Check your email. I'm too long winded to text it to you.]

Mitobe chuckled and went to his email, glad that he hadn't been dismissed.

"When Firecracker left us, the three of us started looking at all the PGs in Tokyo. We couldn't agree on any of them. Your man, Furihata? Frankly this is the first time I've heard of him. Izuki wasn't hard to exclude either. Pacifist hates his puns. One or two he could handle, but any more than that and Pacifist would throttle him. Bat had his own objections. That boy is so vain, I swear I don't know how Socialite puts up with him. He said Izuki was 'too good looking'. I think it's downright ridiculous, they might as well be twins. And I am obviously better looking than Bat and so is Kasamatsu, since he's the one who always has the girls all hot and bothered (not that he knows what to do with them, damn him). So when I invited you, I did so because I thought you would be a good fit. You're quiet, patient, and I enjoy your sense of humor. That's all. There was no big discussion, I didn't ask for permission, I took a chance on you, and we are all glad I did. You may not be a Point Guard, but that doesn't matter to any of us. If you'd like, we'll change the name. Besides, I'm sure Akashi-kun would appreciate it."

Mitobe found that the answer made him... a little emotional, something he didn't feel altogether comfortable with, but at the same time, it made him stupidly happy. He closed out the email and switched back to the text conversation.

[Don't you dare change the name and thank you.]

[You're welcome.]

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

This chapter takes place after Chapter 9 of "Partners" and after the one-shot "Obituary"

* * *

Kasamatsu wondered if he'd ever be able to breathe again. He'd debated from the moment he'd woken up – it was only a sinus infection, not something serious – but after four hours of feeling like death, he'd sent a mass text to the other members of Point Guard Poke Players telling them he was not going to make it tonight. Between the throbbing pain in his head and the light fever, he knew he shouldn't go out tonight. Instead he should really crack open the books and study some more for his very first biology test of his first year of pre-med.

It had taken him until his final semester of high school to decide on a major to pursue. Luckily he was such a good student that he'd passed his entrance exam with very little preparation. His home room teacher had said, often and with increasing agitation during his time of indecision, that a person's life work should be to increase the common good. His brother, however, had given him the best advice: "Life isn't about the common good, Yukio. It's about your good. Think about your pain and your passion, see where they intersect, then you'll know what you're meant to do."

That was easy for him to say. His brother loved cars from the first moment he'd seen one, and he'd been a mechanic since he'd been old enough to hold a wrench. Those words hadn't meant much to him at first. Yes, he'd known defeat, but he didn't understand true pain, and he knew it. He loved music, but the guitar was for him, not for other people. Everything had changed that one awful moment when he'd watched his best friend's future turn to ash.

So, Kasamatsu had decided that nothing was more painful than watching someone you cared deeply for (ok, loved even) lose their dream through no fault of their own. Passion was a little harder, but after spending months assisting his in best friend's recovery, he'd learned that he was not only good at helping people, but he found fulfillment in it as well. When he put those two thoughts together with his academic talent for the sciences, the idea had blossomed that he should be a doctor, maybe even an orthopedic surgeon.

He'd only open the Intro to Biology text book and begun re-reading the section on mitosis, when he heard the doorbell ring. It was never for him, he'd only moved in with his brother, sister-in-law, and their three month old baby at the beginning of the semester, and only a handful of people knew where he lived, so he ignored it. Instead he blew his nose again, hoping against reason to dislodge the blockage that forced him to breathe out of his mouth.

"Yukio," his brother called from downstairs. "Someone's here to see you."

"Tell him I'm sick, and I don't want to give it to him," Kasamatsu replied, figuring it was Kise.

"I'm not your damn secretary; I've got to get back to work, tell him yourself."

Kasamatsu expected to see a pouting and annoyed blond wanting his attention, but instead when he came down the stairs bundle in a blanket to garner sympathy (and hopefully chase the mysophobic away so he could rest) he saw a shaggy black haired man with bushy eyebrows.

"Chatterbox? Didn't you get my text? I'm – "

Mitobe smiled, and with two hands covered in oven mits, he raised up the glass dish he was holding.

"Did you make this for me?"

Mitobe nodded vigorously.

"That's really nice of you," Kasamatsu said, as he reached for the dish.

_Pacifist, really? _Mitobe thought as he held the dish up and away from the shorter man _I wouldn't be wearing oven mits if it was cool enough for you to touch. _

"Oh, I guess it's hot, isn't it?" Kasamatsu mumbled while pinching his aching nose between his thumb and forefinger.

_Poor Pacifist. Even smart guys can be dumb when they're sick. _He looked around hoping Kasamatsu could read his body language.

"I guess you should take it to the kitchen. It's this way."

Mitobe followed his host to the back of the first floor, and put the hot dish on the trivet in the middle of the counter.

Another round of coughing caught Kasamatsu, who nearly bent double under the onslaught that racked his already weakened body. Mitobe quickly rummaged through the cupboards and drew a glass of cold water for his friend, then stood next to him and rubbed gentle circles onto his back until the fit subsided.

"Thank you," he panted. He leaned over the sink and hocked up a glop of mucus.

"Sorry, that's gross. My sister-in-law would yell at me if she saw that," he said as he washed the green substance down the drain with hot water. "Our little secret, alright?"

_Sure. _Mitobe smile was strained. _He's worse off than I thought._

[You alone?] Mitobe wrote the text on his phone, and showed the screen to Kasamatsu.

"Yeah, Oniisan just came home on his lunch hour to check on me, and Oneechan works at the day care center where they keep the kid, so it's just me until 7ish tonight."

Mitobe typed furiously, then showed the message to Kasamatsu.

[Get in bed. I'll bring you a bowl.]

"That's not necessary, Chatterbox. I don't want you to get sick because of me. I wasn't lying when I said that to my brother. I'll be fine. You should go home, and I'll bring the dish back to you at the next game."

Mitobe didn't type another reply, he just pointed empathetically to the stairs.

"Really man, I'm telling you… I'll be fine."

Mitobe tried the angry eyebrow look he gave to his obstinate siblings when they refused to do as told. Kasamatsu laughed, so he changed tactics and gave him the big, sad eyes that _always _worked on Koganei.

"You're worse than the Professor," Kasamatsu groaned. "My bedroom is the last door on the right upstairs."

* * *

Kasamatsu was in bed, under the covers, when Mitobe brought up a bowl of the rice porridge, a dish of canned peaches, and a Pocari Sweat.

"Chatterbox, you are amazing! I haven't been this spoiled since I moved in here."

Mitobe shrugged, but the pink blush across his cheeks said he was pleased by the compliment.

[Did you take medicine?] the next message said.

"Yeah, I'm not some kid that needs to be bribed. As a pre-med major, I'd be pretty stupid not to take it when I so obviously need it."

Mitobe nodded and watched as Kasamatsu blew on the hot porridge before taking a spoonful. Kasamatsu looked up to see Mitobe's ridiculous eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"It's very good, perfect in fact. Thank you, but really you shouldn't be here. If you get sick –"

Kasamatsu stopped as Mitobe composed another text.

[If there's a sickness going around the school system of Tokyo, it's a good guess that a Mitobe either started it, or has carried it. We're the original Patients X. I have an aggressive immune system; if I didn't I'd be down every other week with the stuff my family drags in. If I get anything, I'm better in twenty-four hours. I understood the risks when I decided to come here.]

"Ok, ok. It's your funeral, Chatterbox."

Mitobe smiled. _It's nice to finally get the last word._

* * *

Mitobe was an expert in dealing with sick people, and after Kasamatsu had finished all the offerings on the tray, he'd managed to get the patient to lie down and try to sleep for a few hours.

With his cellphone on vibrate, Mitobe sat at Kasamatsu's desk and did his own homework.

At 3:30, he received a text.

[I'm on my way, Mitobecchi, thanks for waiting until I could get free. I own you one!] There was a string of strange emoji following the words.

[Text me when your outside so that the doorbell doesn't wake him up.]

[Got it! You're so smart and sensitive!]

* * *

Thirteen minutes later, Mitobe, with all his homework and dishes, let Kise in for the shift change.

"Is he bad?" Kise asked.

_Pathetic_, Mitobe thought, but it was better for Kise to witness it firsthand. [I've seen worse, but only with extremely wimpy six-year-olds.]

Kise put on a cute surgical mask with Domo-kun's face on it and then washed his hands with antibacterial soap. He took a deep breath, and headed up the stairs.

* * *

When Kasamatsu woke, he rubbed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling with a groan. He was so tired, he hadn't even moved in his sleep. A quick check of his watched confirmed it was past time to take his medicine and he could feel the fever in his sensitive eyes.

"Chatterbox, can you get me some water to take my pills?" he asked.

"Chatterbox? Is that Mitobecchi's nickname?" Kise asked, as he appeared over Kasamatsu's prone form.

"Ryōta?" Kasamatsu asked, confused and bleary. The cartoon character mask across his best friend's features couldn't disguise the childish voice, the perfectly tousled mop of blond hair, or the smile in his warm golden eyes.

"What did you do to Mitobe?" Kasamatsu asked, his tone turning suspicious.

"Nothing!" Kise pouted. "He has practice this evening, so it's my turn to play nursemaid. I tried renting a nurse's costume at the cosplay shop, but they were all out of my size."

Kasamatsu stopped scowling as he laughed, but the laugh soon turned into another coughing fit.

"It's ok, Yukio," Kise said, while striking his friend hard on the back.

"Go home, idiot! If you get sick, I'll kill kick you!" Kasamatsu growled when he could finally speak again. He punctuated the sentence by kicking Kise away from the bed.

"Well, Yukio," Kise laughed, "If that's as hard as you can kick me, it's a good thing I came after all!"

* * *

Author's notes:

By the way, I want to thank everyone who's been reading & reviewing. You've inspired me to keep this going past the original 3 chapter plan. I'm not sure where I'll go next with the PGPP's, but I hope you will continue to enjoy reading it.

I've had a request to pair Mitobe off, and while I'm not for or against the idea, I'd like to have the opinion of all my readers before I do something like that. Make sure you review or take the poll on my profile to let me know how you feel. The poll closes on May 4th.

Have a request that will fit in the Partner's universe? Let me know. I'm generally very open and friendly in PMs.

Again, Thanks - Kazu


	5. Chapter 5

"What would ya like ta do ta celebrate your graduation, Chatterbox?" Saint asked. "It is our tradition ta have a wild night of excess, or mild day of recess, whichever suits ya better, and we need a good excuse ta have a party."

Chatterbox tried to hide his frown behind the cup of coffee, but he wasn't fooling anyone.

"He's just kidding you know," Bat offered, patting the silent man's hand. "We can do whatever you like, maybe an amusement park, a movie, or even a trip to the beach, but we really want to celebrate with you."

_It's not that_, Mitobe would have explained. _I'm use to his... colorful expressions by now._

"What's up, Chatterbox? This isn't like you?" Kasamatsu asked, putting down his coffee cup to give Mitobe his full attention.

_It's nothing guys, really, besides I'm the –_

"Don't even think it, Chatterbox," Imayoshi warned. "Ya can mother-hen us all ya like, but every once in a while ya have ta allow us the same rights. Now spill it."

Mitobe sighed and took up his phone. He stared at it, contemplating how to put the whole situation into words.

"Maybe you're worried about graduating, going away to college, and leaving your family?" Takao guessed.

_No_, Mitobe sighed again. _Families with ten children can't afford to send their kids to college, even if they're smart enough to pass the exams. The scholarships I earned will only afford me one class a semester at a cheap school. What's the point in even trying?_

"You ain't goin' ta college, are ya?"

Mitobe confirmed that statement.

"Have ya been interviewin' for jobs then?"

Mitobe combined a nod and a shrugged in a gesture that would have confused most people, but not the other members of the Point Guard Poker Players.

"No wonder you're bummed," Pacifist said.

"Well, maybe we can help," Takao decided. "What do you want to do?"

_I want to go to college._

[I want to go to college, I want to write] he typed the message and sent it to the three friends sitting around the table, enjoying coffee with him. Each of them liked coffee a little differently. Takao was predictable in his unpredictability. Every time they met, he'd try something different. Today he had a cappuccino in front of him, next time... who knew. Kasamatsu like his coffee simple, one cream, one sugar. Imayoshi liked his coffee as dark and as bitter as possible; he favored espresso. Mitobe wasn't actually a fan of coffee, it made him jittery, so they joked that he liked a little coffee with his cream and sugar.

"Like books?" Kasamatsu's eyebrows drew down into a deep V.

_No, like greeting cards,_ Mitobe chuckled for the first time in days.

"Fiction, non-fiction, manga?" Takao asks.

Mitobe shrugged. This was his all-purpose shrug that his friends knew meant he was either uneasy answering the question, or simply had no good answer to give.

"Have you tried applying for an internship? You could do some menial job, washing dishes or something to support yourself, while doing an internship with a newspaper or a publishing house," Takao suggested.

[I've tried, but internships always go to college students first. And as far as just any job, I've papered the town with my résumé, but a guy who doesn't speak has nothing to offer. There are a lot of unemployed graduates in this town right now and there be a whole lot more after graduation next month.]

"I'm trying to think if I know anyone who needs help," Kasamatsu said.

"Does it have ta be in _this_ town?" Imayoshi asked. There was something in his demeanor that kept Mitobe from answering right away. "If it doesn't, I could have ya set up with an interview by the end of the day, but job would be Osaka."

_I can't afford – _Mitobe shook his head.

"Have a little more faith in my forethought, Chatterbox, I always play the long game, thinking three steps ahead. Making sure ya have a roof over your head was always on the list of necessities."

_Tell me more,_ Mitobe's expressive eyebrows raised in a quasi-hopeful way, _but don't get my hopes up just to dash them again, Saint. _

"I see I have your attention, good. This job, it won't be nuthin' excited, but it's writin' – after a fashion. My family is part of the Yakatome Group _–"_

"I knew it," Takao howled. "You're Yakuza!" Kasamatsu and Mitobe both thought the same thing, at the exact same moment, but they were both smart enough to keep their mouths shuts.

"I'm not Yakuza, Bat. And you Chatterbox..." he pointed at Mitobe. "You should know better, you've seen me in nuthin' more than a towel. I wasn't tatted up, now was I?"

Mitobe nodded, quick and feral, his large eyes comically wide as the Imayoshi's expression changed. The smile that stretched its way across Imayoshi's face was one he very rarely used with his poker buddies. It was a smile of a sociopath off his medications, and they all were quick to agree that, no Imayoshi couldn't be Yakuza.

"Now, if ya don't mind, I was tryin' ta share somethin' important with y'll... The Yakatome Group manages the horse racing business out of Hanshin and my father is the editor of the horse racin' form guides. I'd be glad to talk ta him for ya. He's been naggin' me to come work for him once I finish school. I love horses; I love ridin' them; I love watchin' them race, but I wouldn't if I worked in the family business every day. I'd come ta resent them. I've resisted, and as long as I'm in school, I have a valid excuse to continue such behavior. But, my family ain't that bad. I know there is a position waitin' and my childhood bedroom is unoccupied. If I talk ta my Daddy, I'm sure he'll take ya on, and I'll make sure they take care of ya until ya can afford somethin' of your own."

_Osaka_, Mitobe thought,_ that's so far away._ _Can I really leave my family and live in another city?_

"But, ya'd be writin'," Imayoshi voiced Mitobe's silent concern. "It may not be your dream job, but it's a foot in the door. What do you say? Should I make a call?"

Mitobe looked down into his coffee, then back up at the three sets of expectant eyes. He bit his lip and then nodded.

"I'll be right back," Imayoshi excused himself, taking his cell phone with him.


	6. Chapter 6

Imayoshi was on his way out of his Abnormal Psychology class when his phone buzzed. He didn't believe in using ringtones; in fact, he found their very existence infuriating. If he wanted to listen to a song three seconds at a time, he was sure there were better ways to accomplish it. But the quiet vibration in his pocket, made him smile. He only gave his number out to people he wanted to speak with and he blocked anyone who had it without permission.

He waited until his papers were turned in, and he was outside, before he flipped open his phone and checked the messages.

[Why are you dragging me to Osaka again?] The caller ID read Pacifist.

[Don't come then. Bat bowed out, I won't be offended if you don't want a free vacation from Tokyo and The Professor.]

[Oh, yeah, that's why. Never mind. What time are we meeting again?]

[6pm at Serin's gymnasium. We'll pick up Chatterbox, and be at the station for the 6:30 train.]

[Ok.]

* * *

"Rin, don't worry about it," Koganei said, patting his friend on the back. Mitobe gave him an awkward smile and tried to express the sentiment again, more clearly this time.

"Kagami passed his test. That's all we can really hope for!" Koganei continued, obliviously.

"Is that what you got out of Chatterbox's expression?" Kasamatsu asked Imayoshi, as they watched the two friends from a distance.

"Hell no, not at all, but Koganei's known him a lot longer than us. Maybe our translation is a bit off," Imayoshi shrugged.

"Or maybe Koganei's distracted, stuff happens," Kasamatsu said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking embarrassed. Serin girls kept walking by the two of them, whispering and giggling. He would die, literally fall down on the sidewalk and expire, if they didn't get going soon.

"Oh my, did ya see that eye roll Chatterbox just gave him?" Imayoshi asked, noticing the gesture Mitobe gave to Koganei.

"That was epic, I have to admit."

Finally, Mitobe saw the two men waiting for him just outside the school gate. He smiled and waved to them.

"Hurry up Chatterbox, if another girl talks ta Kasamatsu, we may have ta hold a funeral!" Imayoshi shouted across pavement.

* * *

Imayoshi paid for the taxi as Kasamatsu retrieved their luggage from the trunk, and Mitobe hemmed and hawed, trying to think of a way to back out of this meeting/vacation/interview that he'd somehow been talked into by his crazy friends.

The two-story house was in an older residential neighborhood. The narrow building was so close to its neighbors that anyone on the second floor could reach out and touch the window of the house across the alley. Laundry hung from the upper floor balcony. Imayoshi didn't seem to notice the shabby conditions; to Mitobe the surroundings seemed like a luxury; to Kasamatsu it harkened back to memories of his grandparent's home, to their love and warmth.

Imayoshi swung the black iron gate inward and opened the unlocked front door. Mitobe and Kasamatsu followed close behind.

"I'm back and I've brought friends," Imayoshi called into the cramped space of the front hallway.

"You have friends? How much did ya pay them ta pretend, Shoichi?" asked a voice that came from the spiral staircase just inside the door.

"That's my rotten little brother, Kosuke. He lives at school, most of the time, but he still leeches off my parents on weekends and holidays," Imayoshi narrated as they continued into the house. "My other brother, Hiroya, is the middle child. He's a NEET, or maybe a Hikikomori, I'm never quite sure which he is, I guess whichever sounds more pathetic and needy. He hasn't come out of his room in a decade. You won't have ta worry about him either, just don't get too close ta his room, as it smells rank."

"Charming," Kasamatsu said. "Is there any reason why Mitobe might want to live here?"

_Seven less siblings –_

"Besides the fact that he'll have his own room for the first time in his life?" Imayoshi snarked. "And anyway, Pacifist, just shut ya mouth, this is my home."

* * *

Anger descended to the pit of Imayoshi's belly as he walked into his bedroom and saw the blatant disregard with which Kosuke treated his things. Besides the fact that an unmade futon was left in the middle of the floor, there were half-empty soda bottles, food wrappers, and dirty dishes littering his desk, his bureau, even the floor. The very last straw was the open pornography magazine, the bottle of lotion, and the box of tissues.

"I apologize, Chatterbox, Pacifist," he said, as the smile slipped from his face. He gathered up the trash and left the room.

The two men rushed to the hallway as they heard the sharp report of a foot kicking in a door. Imayoshi stood before the busted door, his chest heaving, but his smile returned.

"What the hell, Shouichi?"

Imayoshi threw the open trash bag into the room, magazines and the arc of brown liquid raced to see which would be the first to hit the ground.

"I'm not an unreasonable man, far from it, I'd say. I let ya use my room, I let ya use my PS3, I don't even mind a little dust - who does really? - but I warned ya that the next time I found such filth in my room that I'd break your fingers, little brother, so which hand do ya want to start with? The one ya wank with or the one ya write with?"

Kasamatsu looked sideways at Mitobe.

"He's just kidding, right?"

_He wouldn't,_ Mitobe thought. _He just..._

Imayoshi, done waiting for an answer, rushed into the room so fast that he seemed to disappear. Kosuke's shrill screams filled the upstairs. Kasamatsu held his hand tight over his ears as the reverberation ran down the hall.

_...or maybe he would_.

Imayoshi's mother appeared behind them with a tray of snacks and drinks.

"Don'tcha worry, Shou won't do any lastin' damage. Kosuke misses his brother and refuses ta admit it, so he likes ta provoke Shou whenever he comes home. If Kosuke could just learn ta express his emotions in a healthy way... Its like this every time."

They followed her back into the bedroom.

"Shou is an excellent big brother. He bought a second and third video game system just so he could play with his brothers. They have tournaments every weekend. Kosuke is just afraid that if Mitobe-kun moves in that he won't be able ta spend time with his brothers anymore."

Mitobe raised his hands, chest high, and waved them back and forth.

"I know, Shou already told me he'd buy another system for Kosuke. Don'tcha worry about it, they'll figure themselves out right quick."

* * *

"I'm tired, I'm just gonna listen and watch," Kasamatsu said as he sprawled on the futon.

"Pacifist!" Takao whined through the speakers. "No fair! I finally get this thing set up on my side and now you're-"

"There are only two controllers, Bat. We can all still talk, so quit your bitching," Kasamatsu said while yawning into the back of his hand.

"Alright, alright,"Takao sighed.

"Where's Socialite tonight?" Imayoshi asked.

"He's distracting his mom so I can play. She hates electronics in the house, its bad Feng Shui. By the way, thanks for lending me you system, Saint."

"No worries, it wouldn't be Point Guard Poker Players without you."

* * *

"Wait, how come you always have ammo?" Takao complained.

"'Cause I unlocked unlimited ammo. I play this game every weekend, after all."

"Oh." The pout was funnier with the mechanical modulations of the cheap speakers. "Anyway, Chatterbox, how did the interview go?

Mitobe took up his phone and typed a response while Imayoshi's on-screen avatar blew the head off the zombie that was trying to eat Takao's character.

"Thanks Saint," Takao called out. "Oh, crap where is the pause button?"

"There is none. Zombies won't wait for ya ta check your messages."

"Switch places and let Mitobe play for a while."

Mitobe gave the universal gesture for no thanks, but kept watching the game.

"He says no, 'sides I'm the only thing keepin' ya alive right now. Don't ya know how ta conserve ammo?"

"Get Pacifist to read the sent message then. He's been quiet for too long anyway."

"He's asleep, he was out the moment his head hit the pillow. and through all the noise we're makin', he hasn't stirred. Chatterbox even checked ta make sure he was still breathing a while back."

"Shin-chan? Imayoshi's being mean to me! Can you read my text to me? A zombie is trying to eat me."

"You probably deserve it." They heard Midorima's voice as he responded to Takao's whining. "It says: 'Imayoshi's dad is reading through my portfolio tonight and tomorrow we're going to 'chat' about it over breakfast.' There, can I go back to my book or do I have to make you tea as well, princess?"

"Princess?" Imayoshi and Mitobe exchanged a look.

* * *

Imayoshi kissed his mother goodbye, and hugged his father.

"Be good, brats," he yelled up at the second story windows. "If I hear that Mitobe has to clean up your porn collection when he comes back, Kosuke, I will gut you."

There was no answer, but the curtain fluttered for a moment as if someone had come to the window. Imayoshi was satisfied and got in the back seat.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Kasamatsu said as he bowed to Imayoshi's parents. He climbed into the front seat, next to the driver.

Mitobe had tendered his goodbyes earlier, and was already in the taxi, a bag of back issues of the racing forms balanced on his knees.

As the car pulled away, Mitobe looked back over his shoulder to the house that he would call home in a few more weeks and smiled.


End file.
